


Soup

by AlmondRose



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 00:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17171972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondRose/pseuds/AlmondRose
Summary: Jason is crashing after patrol when he gets a phone call and a plead for help....





	Soup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aya_kunZeroaddicted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aya_kunZeroaddicted/gifts).



> this was written for GenBatfamChristmasStocking2k18 for writtenskyes on tumblr! hope you enjoy!
> 
> the prompts i was working with were:  
> -Baby Jason anything. Happy RH!Jason anything.  
> -Dami being a child and Dick and Cass aren’t around to help so it’s up to his big bros…his very lost and panicking big bros  
> -Jason getting all his comfy clothes stolen by the fam
> 
> I went a little off-model but I hope it's close enough!

Jason is laying on the couch, half-falling off, a bag of frozen peas on his black eye. He’s not even in his own apartment, nor any of his safehouses, because Dickhead’s apartment was closer and Dick is off-world, so Jason figured he might as well be as annoying-little-brother as possible. 

 

And Dick’s apartment is like, super nice, so bonus. 

 

Jason closes his eyes, trying to relax his body, but then the phone rings and Jason falls off the couch. 

 

“Jesus,” he mutters, and he gropes for his phone on the coffee table. He finds it and checks the caller ID, groaning when he sees who it is. 

 

He answers anyway, because  _ sometimes  _ it is an actual emergency. 

 

“What is it, replacement?” he growls into the phone. 

 

“We need help,” Tim says, sounding a little shaken and unsure. 

 

“With what?” Jason asks, closing his eyes and imagining going back out on patrol. No, thanks. 

 

“Damian’s….sick,” Tim says. “And B’s at a JL thing, and Dick’s off-world, and Cassie is on a retreat,  and Alfred’s in London, and sick Damian is a million times worse than healthy Damian, and  _ we need help _ .”

 

Jason tries to imagine who “we” is; he realizes that Tim must be calling for some sort of responsible adult to help. 

 

Laughable, Jason thinks, thinking of the frozen peas on his eye. 

 

“Fine,” Jason says. “I’ll be over in twenty.”

 

“Thank you so much, Jason, you have no  _ idea  _ how much this means to me--” 

 

Jason hangs up on him and stands up, his body aching and protesting. He’s glad Alfred’s not there, because Alfred would probably force him into staying at the Manor until his stitches healed or something, and Jason was  _ fine.  _

 

He leaves the peas on the counter for a little bit of mystery, and leaves.

 

He rolls into the batcave twenty minutes later, like he’d said, and parks his bike next to Steph’s. So she’s here, or at least not patrolling. 

 

Jason leaves his helmet with his bike and strips, stealing some of Duke’s sweatpants and one of B’s shirts. He decides that this operation won’t need shoes, and so he goes up barefoot. 

 

He finds Steph first, in the kitchen. She waves at him and Jason peers around her to see what she’s up to. She’s making soup, and it smells almost good but Jason sees a can next to her. 

 

“You’re making canned soup?” he asks. “In  _ Alfred’s  _ kitchen?”

 

“I don’t know how to make any other soup,” Steph says, crossing her arms defensively. 

 

“Get out,” Jason says, one hundred percent serious. “I’ll make the damn soup.”

 

“Jesus, if you’re gonna be mean about it,” Steph says, then she turns on her heel and marches out. Then she comes back in. 

 

“Damian’s plague-ridden body is in the family room, by the way. Tim left to go patrol because he quote unquote ‘couldn’t handle it’, but we all know it’s because he’s afraid of being sick. So it’s just Duke and I right now. And you.” She turns back around and Jason notes the back of her sweatshirt, which before now he had assumed was stolen from Tim or Duke, but that’s not either of their sweatshirts, that’s  _ his.  _

 

“That’s my fucking sweatshirt,” he says, and she turns around, pointing at him. 

 

“And that’s B’s shirt, what’s your point?” she says, and then she’s gone and Jason has to admit she has a point. 

 

He throws out her canned monstrosity and gathers the ingredients for some  _ real  _ soup. 

 

When it’s made, he heads into the family room. 

 

Inside, it’s like a furnace, and Damian is wrapped in so many blankets he looks like a small burrito. Steph’s taken off Jason’s sweatshirt and she’s sitting on the couch, Damian’s sweaty little head resting on her thigh. 

 

Duke comes in with a washcloth and puts it on Damian’s forehead.

 

Damian cries out. 

 

“Too cold!” he says, his voice tinier than Jason’s ever heard it before, his face all scrunched up. 

 

“Bud, you’re heating up,” Duke says. “You have to wear it for a little bit.”

 

“No,” Damian moans. 

 

“Yess,” Steph says. “You can do it.”

 

“Fine,” Damian says, and Jason decides that’s his cue. 

 

“Anyone call for some soup?” he says, and Damian says, “Is that Jason?”

 

His eyes are still closed and Jason’s never heard Damian say his first name before, he doesn't think. His heart warms and puddles in his chest. 

 

“Yeah, little D, it’s me,” he says, and he goes over to the other side of the couch to put the soup in front of Damian. Damian’s eyes crack open and he adjusts to try and sit up. 

 

Steph and Duke help him free his hands and rotate so he’s sitting, and Jason sets the sick-tray in front of him with the bowl of soup on top. He starts to eat it. 

 

“Yeah, that looks much better than the canned stuff,” Steph says, and Jason says, “I was taught by the master, Steph.”

 

He remembers when Alfred had taught him; because Bruce had had the flu and Jason had wanted to help him feel better. It was a long time ago. 

 

He crosses his arms and watches Damian feebly sip at his soup. 

 

“Thanks for coming, dude,” Duke says, and Jason shrugs. 

 

“No problem,” he says. “I’m kind of an expert in sick children.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Duke asks. 

 

“Yeah,” Jason says. “You just give ‘em soup, and if that doesn’t work, give ‘em more soup.”

 

“I shudder to think how Lian has ever recovered, with you watching her,” Duke says. 

 

“Shut up,” Jason says. He pauses. “I’m sure Roy gives her drugs or whatever.”

 

Duke laughs. 

 

“I’m sick and  _ dying!  _ You can’t laugh!” Damian says, his voice trying to be commanding, but he dissolves into coughing at the end and it ruins the effect. 

 

“Sorry, little D,” Jason says. “I promise to be somber for the rest of the evening.”

 

“Me too, bud,” Duke says. “Nothing but respect for your illness.”

 

Damian sniffs in approval and goes back to his soup. 

 

“Want me to put on a movie?” Steph asks. 

 

“ _ Lilo and Stitch?”  _ Damian asks, his voice very small, and Steph says, “Of course, sweetie.”

 

She gets up and goes to put it on and Jason says, “If I’m not needed anymore, I’ll just go--”

 

“Stay,” Damian says. 

 

“Yeah, come on, man,” Duke says. “We might need more help.”

 

“Or more soup!” Steph calls from where she’s getting the DVDs, and Jason sighs. 

 

“Fine!” he says. He sinks into Tim’s chair and crosses his arms. 

 

Duke settles on the floor and Steph puts in the DVD, then goes back to the couch so Damian can lay back down. 

 

Steph turns on the movie and the Disney castle fills the screen. 

 

“Ohana,” Damian whispers, and Jason exchanges a glance with Duke and Steph. 

 

“Yeah, buddy,” he says. “Ohana.”

 

And if he stays in the Manor until morning, and comes back after patrol to check on Damian--who’s to know?

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> a note: Cass's retreat was with her homeschool group
> 
>  
> 
> thanks for reading! comments/kudos always welcome!


End file.
